


The Lion, the Witch and the Marauders

by facelessoldwoman



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Magic is Real, turkish delights
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-07 19:10:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1910415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/facelessoldwoman/pseuds/facelessoldwoman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Marauders find Narnia and talking animals are the least of their problems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. PROLOGUE

**Author's Note:**

> This is dedicated to Mr. Tumnus, you glorious half-goat bastard.

“I’m bored,” Sirius moaned.

Remus picked up his head at that. It was never good when Sirius was bored; that usually mean that something was about to explode. Remus rolled up his arithmancy notes and asked, “Have you finished all of your homework, already?”

“Of course not,” Sirius sighed, “That’s why I’m **_bored_**.”

James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter were all pouring over their books in the Gryffindor common room. It was the last weekend before winter exams and most of the other students already went to bed. Remus had them all studying because he claimed that this time he would not allow them to copy off his work. The candles and lamps all died out hours ago and they were illuminated by the flickering light in the fireplace. Sirius was tossing fireworks into it to keep it going. The enchanted rockets fizzed and buzzed in the stone grate.

“We might just call it a night,” Remus said, “It is getting late.”

“I don’t want to go to bed at nine thirty,” Sirius said, “I’m not ninety.”  

“Well then what would you suggest?” Remus asked.

“I’d say we are overdue for a little chicanery, wouldn’t you say Moony?” James asked. James closed his muggle studies textbook dramatically. All the boys turned to look at James when he spoke. You couldn’t help but look at James when he got like this. It was like he was made of magnets.

“Oh noooo,” Remus said.

“I said I think it is time for a little misconduct, wouldn’t you say Padfoot?” James said, building up momentum.

“I like where your head is at, Prongs,” Sirius said. Sirius stuck his wand behind his ear like a pencil and rolled up his sleeves in anticipation.

“Let’s not get too hasty,” Remus said.

“What about you, Wormtail? Would you say that it is time for a little mischief?” James asked. His grin spread from ear to ear.

“Hear, hear!” Peter said.

“We all have exams tomorrow,” Remus said weakly, but he watched on as James pulled out the Marauder’s Map. He didn’t say a word as James grandly spread the enchanted parchment over their books and parchments.

“Peter, if you would be so kind as to secure the perimeter,” James said.

Peter began circling the common room closing doors and shutting curtains. He looked under cushions for listening devices and eyed the room carefully for anything amiss. Then Peter began the traditional assortment of shielding spells: “ _Muffliato_ ,” Peter said, flicking his wand over the crown of their heads, “ _Protego Totalum, Salvio Hexia_.”

“Thank you, Wormtail,” James said. Peter nodded. James pulled out his wand and said, “ _I solemnly swear that I am up to no good_.”


	2. PROLOGUE pt 2

The Marauders Map was a diagram of the Hogwarts castle and grounds laid out on a roll of parchment as large as a desk. The map **_should_** be impossible. Remus said that the castle was unplottable (that it would be unable to appear on any map) after he read _Hogwarts, a History_ but that only made James even more determined to make the map.

It was this same determination that convinced James that they would all learn the art of _animagus_ to join Remus during his monthly transformations. Remus knew from experience that most other witches and wizards would only ever react to his condition with fear and distrust- but to James it was simply another challenge to overcome. James, Sirius, and Peter all mastered animal transformations by their fifth year. They then used this complex and rare ability to sneak out of the castle after dark and unlock a werewolf from a supposedly haunted building. From there the four boys would make night time trips to the Forbidden Forest, howling at the moon in adrenaline fueled reverie. 

It was during these nighttime excursions that the boys learned about several passageways and secrets of Hogwarts. The map came about as a way to expand and preserve their paths through the dark, a legacy of mischief and forbidden knowledge.

“As I am sure none of you need reminding,” James announced, “The map is unfinished.”

“If you’re talking about trying to map the girl’s dormitories again,” Peter said, “I will remind you that none of us have the right anatomy to get pass the staircases.”

The map was limited to the parts of the castle that the four of them had personal experience with, and so it was still a work in progress. They all knew the hallways and the dungeons and the towers- but the girls dormitories were unknown in size and shape because none of them had ever stepped foot in the girl’s quarters. While girls would often visit their male friends in the boy dorms the instant a boy tried to go up the stairs to see the girls dorms the stairs turned into a slide that sent them all the way back down. They tried running, they tried jumping, they tried the invisibility cloak, and they even tried wearing skirts and wigs to get pass the staircases. Nothing worked. It was like the people who designed the school didn’t trust them.

“There has to be a way,” James said.

“We tried everything,” Sirius said, “You’re more likely to marry Lily Evans than you are to get past the enchantments keeping us out of those dormitories.”

“First off, we haven’t tried everything,” James said, “Secondly, I AM going to marry Lily Evans she just doesn’t know it yet.”

“That’s the spirit,” Sirius said, patting James on the back jovially.

“If only we had some Polyjuice Potion, that might do the trick,” James mused.

“Polyjuice Potion!?” Peter said, “That’s not just some draft that they teach to second years- it requires a month of planning, rare ingredients, and we’d end up breaking about 50 school rules!”

“Never stopped us before,” Sirius shrugged, “I don’t reckon Slughorn would miss some shredded Boomslang skin, do you?”

“When did you memorize the ingredients for Polyjuice Potion? You’ve been copying off me in potions all year!” Remus said.

“And obviously I learned a lot that way, didn’t I Moony?” Sirius smiled.

“Well, we wouldn’t be able to make that potion tonight, in any case,” James said, “I say we take another crack at finding the passageway to Honeydukes.”

“Myth,” Remus said.

“You can’t prove that it doesn’t exist,” James said.

“The burden of proof falls on the person making the claim, not the person dismissing it,” Remus said.

“I know a guy who knew a guy who used that passageway before,” James said.

“And you never talked to this bloke directly, have you?” Remus said.

“Until we map out the entire castle there’s no way we can confirm nor deny the existence of passageways to Honeydukes,” James said.

“What, you think the passageway is in the girl’s dormitories now?” Sirius asked.

“I wouldn’t put it pass them,” James said, his eyes narrow with distrust, “I say we each take a wing of the castle and mark down anything suspicious. Who wants the third floor corridor?”

“That one with a trap door leading down to huge cavernous rooms that are never used?” Sirius said, “The one that is forbidden to all students who do not wish to die a most painful death?”

“That’s the one,” James said.

“I want it,” Sirius said.

“Too bad I already called it,” James said.

“Wanker,” Sirius said. He balled up a roll of parchment and threw it at James head. James deflected it with a swish of his wand.

“Who wants to take the kitchens?” James asked.

“I got this,” Peter said.

“Aren’t there house elves down there?” Remus asked, “We shouldn’t be bothering the house elves.”

“They’ll be sleeping, you great big bleeding heart,” Sirius sighed, “They won’t be working at this time of night.”

“Remus, you take the main floor,” James said, “Sirius, you take the dungeons.”

“I could help Remus,” Sirius asked quietly.

“I am perfectly capable of searching the main floor myself, thanks,” Remus said.

“If you don’t want the dungeons, just say so Sirius,” James said.

“It’s fine,” Sirius said, brushing the fringe out of his face distractedly.

“Now that that’s settled,” James said, “I say that we search our decided areas for one hour and report back to the common room to discuss what we find. Invisibility cloak until we get into the staircases, stay in the shadows, and for the love of Merlin don’t go upsetting Mrs. Norris.”

“That was one time!” Sirius said.

“Once is enough, Padfoot,” James pushed him in the shoulder, Sirius laughed. James put his wand over the map and said, ‘ _Mischief Managed_ ’ and the ink outline of the school disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was very hard to write because I spent a lot of time wondering how a bunch of Gryffindor boys got access to the girls dormitories to make maps of it. I am still theorizing on that point- feel free to ask JK Rowling what she thinks!


	3. The Lamppost

Peter didn’t go down to the kitchens. Peter agreed to look in the kitchens every time the four boys searched the castle. It was like James didn’t notice that he kept assigning Peter to the same place when he divvied up the corridors; probably because James and the other Marauders didn’t notice where Peter went the moment Peter left their sight.

Peter was used to being overlooked by now; it was so easy to be outshone when you picked such extraordinary friends. James was a pureblood of a long line of notable wizards and a fantastic quidditch player in line to be team captain. Remus excelled in all his courses and was just chosen as a prefect. Sirius was okay in his coursework but he was also the most boisterous and defiant person in the entire Gryffindor house (probably to distance himself from his family ties in Slytherin).

Then there was Peter. The other one. The one wandering aimlessly through the halls of the castle at night waiting until an hour was up so that he could return to his common room with his friends.

“What are you doing here boy?” a painting on his left said.

“No-nothing,” Peter said.

“Put that light out!” another painting chipped in.

They were getting louder. Peter extinguished his wand and held his breath for a few moments. He walked down the hall using the wall for guidance. He thought that he might have avoided detection but then he stepped on something that moved.

Mrs. Norris howled in shock and agony as she dislodged her tail from underneath his feet and sprinted into the night. Peter clutched his heart in shock and muttered, “Just my luck.”

Then he ran into the dark corridor- in the opposite direction of Mrs. Norris.

*             *             *             *             *

Peter ran and ran until he found himself questioning where he was, what time it was, and what floor he was on. He was going back and forth in front of a painting of a painting of a bunch of dancing trolls, thinking over and over: _I need to get as far away from here as possible, I need to get as far away from here as possible, I need to get as far away from here as possible_.  

He saw a door across the hall that he had never seen before, and there was a light coming from the keyhole. The door looked so familiar but he pulled back as far as he could in his memory with no trace of another time that he might have been here before. He heard the sound of footsteps approaching and so he turned the door handle and entered the room.

The room was empty and dark. The only thing in the room was a wooden wardrobe large enough for a grown man to walk inside. The inside of the wardrobe was glowing cold blue light. Peter walked toward the wardrobe, every footstep making him forget why he entered that room in the first place, and inside he found…

“Just some old robes,” Peter sighed. The light was brighter now, emanating from behind the coats, and Peter pulled the coats aside to see what was behind them. The coats gave way to frozen pine needles. Peter pushed himself through to examine them better, reaching out for the back of the wardrobe where it would meet the wall of the room. But he never met that wall. He kept walking.

Peter found himself in a cold winter’s morning, snow everywhere. He found a coat at his feet and he pulled it on, wrapping it tightly around his shoulders. His breath was mist.

A lamppost burned bright in the clearing ahead. It looked old. The top was burnt with the flames of many years, though it looked to be otherwise well maintained. Peter walked towards it, as if the flames might bring him warmth. This must have been the light that drew him here. He reached out to touch the lamppost and smiled. He wasn’t dreaming- This was real.

 There was a rustling down the lane and Peter hopped in the trees and reached for his wand. There was a figure approaching with his head covered by an umbrella. Through the woods Peter could see that the man was holding something but Peter couldn’t see what it was. As the figure came closer Peter panicked and yelled, “ _Expelliarmus_!”

Brown paper packages flew out of the man’s hands and the man shouted in shock and dismay. Peter heard the man talking, perhaps to himself, “Oh goodness, how dreadful, what’s happened?”

Peter immediately felt horrible and stepped out into the clearing to help, “I’m so sorry, you frightened me.”

“ ** _You_** were frightened?” the man laughed, “I was scared half to death!”

“Sorry,” Peter said, “Let me try to do this properly, my name is Peter, nice to meet you.”

Peter extended his hand to shake the fellow’s hand but he only looked at it with confusion. The man was wearing a bright red scarf around his neck and nothing else besides. He had goat legs and ears, with little blunted horns atop his head. Peter said, “You’re a faun, yes?”

“Yes of course,” the faun said, a small smile creeping back over his face, “What else would I be?”

“Well, I’m a human, and humans where I come from shake hands,” Peter said, “That’s what we do when we meet each other.”

“Why?” the faun said.

“No idea,” Peter laughed, “It was probably decided by a committee or something.”

“You’re not from around here,” the faun said, looking very interested suddenly.

“Where is this exactly?” Peter asked, “Have I left the grounds?”

“We are in Narnia!” the faun announced, pointing out landmarks on the horizon, “Everything from the lamp post, all the way to castle Cair Paravel on the Eastern Sea, every stick and stone, every icicle, is Narnia!”

“We’re going to need another map,” Peter said, looking out at the miles and miles of unfamiliar mountains and skies.

“I’m being terribly rude,” the faun said, “My name is Tumnus.”

“Glad to meet you, Mr. Tumnus,” Peter said. The pair of them shook hands. It was a little awkward because Mr. Tumnus gripped his fingers on Peter’s palm and shook it like he was ringing a bell. Peter was determined that no matter now strange that was he was never going to mention it, ever … Even if Mr. Tumnus had tufts of hair running down his hands that tickled.

Peter studied him intensely because he had never met a faun before- but Peter realized that the faun was looking him over just as curiously. The silence was just about unbearable.

“Well, Peter,” Mr. Tumnus said, regaining his bearings, “how would it be if you came and had tea with me?”

“Oh! Well, thank you very much!” Peter said, but then he remembered the hour he was given to roam the castle, and his friends would be waiting to cross through the portrait hole with them, and just how long ago had it been that he left? Peter snapped back to attention and said, “But I probably should be getting back.”

“Oh, come on! It's not every day I get to make a new friend! And there's a... roaring fire! And toast and cakes! And maybe... we'll even break into the sardines,” Mr. Tumnus said.

Peter felt his resolve crumble at the faun’s words- he looked like he needed a friend even more than Peter did. Peter said, “Well, maybe for just a little while... “

“It’s only just around the corner,” Mr. Tumnus said, “Come along!”

The pair of them began dusting off his packages and stacking them; half for Mr. Tumnus and half to Peter. Mr. Tumnus popped open his umbrella and Peter followed him to his house.


End file.
